


if this is sin, then i shall never repent

by ruthlessgame



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: 1k words, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Drabble, F/F, Kinda, Knight Adora, Mild Blood, Minor Violence, Princess Catra (She-Ra), it's going to be historically inaccurate, might write it into a full fic, slight mention of shadow weaver, this is an au idea i have
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25883158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthlessgame/pseuds/ruthlessgame
Summary: Adora doesn’t know who to expect, but it’s not the sharp face that’s staring back at her wildly now; her brown skin flushed from perspiration, heterochromatic eyes wide like the moon that hangs above them. Blood drips evenly down her plump lips from how Adora roughly pushed her to the ground, and when she brings up her trembling hand to wipe at it - her skin is stained vermillion.Catra.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 148





	if this is sin, then i shall never repent

**Author's Note:**

> hi, the title is from a medieval cover of bad romance by hildegard von blingin' on youtube and it sent me into a spiral of imagining catradora in a medieval setting... anyway this is a fic idea i've been having and raving about for a while (shoutout to audrey for listening to my rambles and fic ideas i never carry out) 
> 
> i wrote this last night for funsies because i couldnt stop picturing this scene and decided to post it here! anyway, i hope u guys like it!!

> I am pleased when she maddens me
> 
> when she makes me stand with open mouth staring
> 
> **\- Cercamon**
> 
>   
>    
> 

“State your name,” Adora spits out sternly, slightly pressing the tip of her sword into the person’s neck - careful enough not to pierce. They are sprawled underneath her now, their hands gripping the soil beneath them as if it will crumble beneath their hands and allow them to fall through. 

Adora can’t see their eyes due to the darkness surrounding them, the luminescence of the moon serving as the only light source. It is barely after midnight, the castle silent except for the hums of crickets and late summer breeze passing through leaves. 

Adora was on her usual shift, standing on guard in the corridors outside the princess’ room. It was a normal night; Catra - the princess - was escorted to bed by compline at the direction of the queen, lingered in her doorway before retreating, and Adora pretended to not notice like she always did. It was routine at this point - ever since Queen Weaver came into power - and really, Adora had grown used to being awake in the late night and ignoring the princess’ burning gaze. She knew what to expect after years of serving, knew the steady rhythm set by the Queen - learned how to ignore the treachery of her heart. 

So when she heard a scramble on the walls of the castle and ventured outside to be met with a knight running towards the forest - she was surprised. They’ve had robbers attempt to break through the dense forest surrounding the kingdom and usually, the intricate vines were enough to hold them back. However, the way the knight dashed towards the trees left her intrigued, so she was inclined to follow. Perhaps a thief managed to cut through the vines, Adora thought initially. 

Only until she called after them and they ran faster, movements more frantic - not answering Adora’s inquiries. Adora’s blood stopped suddenly at the lack of normalcy, thoughts swirling with wonder. When she called for their name, the person didn’t respond.

A traitor, probably. Queen Weaver had been suspecting one with the way Hordak’s forces had pushed through their borders recently, and Adora was filled with sudden anger at the realization. 

She had to stop them, force them to yield at her feet. She cannot, _will not_ let the kingdom fall at the hands of a wretched knight. She trained her entire life for this very purpose, had sworn to not allow Halfmoon to fall.

It led to her catching up, forcing the traitor onto the ground with a moment of scuffling between them. Now, Adora glares right through their shielded face, sword held against their body - demanding for their name. 

The person remains silent, chest heaving. The gray metal of their helmet gleams mockingly against the grass; a symbol of honor, of bravery - is now possibly one of deceit. 

“State your name,” Adora repeats once more, her voice rougher this time. Her blood is seething, skin blearing hot inside her chainmail. 

When the person doesn’t reply again, she acts quickly, leaning down to forcefully rip off the person’s helmet shielding their face - not caring if the force of her action will bruise their skin.

With the way they refuse to respond, it is sure to be a traitor - one she’ll have to force to the ground or push her sword into. 

Adora doesn’t know who to expect, but it’s not the sharp face that’s staring back at her wildly now; her brown skin flushed from perspiration, heterochromatic eyes wide like the moon that hangs above them. Blood drips evenly down her plump lips from how Adora roughly pushed her to the ground, and when she brings up her trembling hand to wipe at it - her skin is stained vermillion.

Catra. 

“Princess?!” Adora gasps, a mixture of shock and guilt flooding her system as she sheathes her sword into the soil. She kneels to hoist her up, ignoring how Catra inches away. “What are you doing-“ 

“Step away,” Catra spits in a tone Adora hardly recognizes - one she hasn’t heard in all her years of serving as her knight. Disbelief hardly describes the feeling lodged between her ribs as she watches Catra push herself to her feet. Adora's mouth is agape and she barely withholds her hands from reaching out, but the way Catra is glaring at her fuels her hesitation.

“That’s an order,” Catra’s voice shakes this time, immediately recognizing Adora’s wavering hands. Her eyes are glowing with a ferocity Adora has seen sometimes - one that has been pushed down for years until it was forced to shift into the sweltering flame that occupies her gaze now. It’s daunting, almost, the way the princess stands on her own, brown curls sticking to the sweat and blood running down her face - body sore from Adora pushing her down. 

A pang of guilt runs through Adora; Catra is wincing from pain due to their scuffle.

She looks different without her ruffles and corset, Adora thinks, but the way Catra places her hand on the sword beside her hip - body held together easily by a knight’s armor - appears strikingly familiar. It’s as if this is what she’s always been; a shimmering knight, a fighter framed in the elegance of the moonlight. A warrior scrambling to stand on her feet after being pushed down - as if the blood running down her face has grazed the skin there before. 

“Your highness,” Adora says now, the summer heat sticky against her burning cheeks and shock evident in the way her voice wavers. “May I ask what you are doing? 

Catra smiles wide, fangs dripped in blood. She brings a hand up to wipe at her face again, before turning her chin upwards to the sky. “I’m going on a quest.” 

“A quest?” Adora asks, bewildered. The princess is mad, probably bored of castle life. As her knight, Adora can’t allow Catra to leave without permission from Queen Weaver. They can enlist for a trip to a neighboring kingdom if Catra is so desperate for an adventure; she can’t allow her to slip away so easily. 

She reaches out for Catra, afraid of the grip on her hip. She looks towards her with pleading eyes. “Princess, I will escort you to your room. The Queen will not know of this if you just will allow me to take you.” 

“No, you will not and shall not. She will not know of this, even if I am not taken back,” Catra says, taking a step back to the forest painted behind her - as if its wind chimes is beckoning her to fall back into its thickets. 

“And why is that?” Adora squeaks.

“Because,” Catra falters for a second. She takes a breath, looks Adora straight in the eye - puffs her chest out, armor shining. “I’m taking her down.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading !! idk if i will actually write this into a full fic but ya 
> 
> have a good day, and please be safe!


End file.
